


I Handed You a Knife

by Xiaojian



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:54:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4914988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xiaojian/pseuds/Xiaojian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Metal Gear Rex is being prepared for launch, Ocelot learns something important: Hal Emmerich is an extremely stupid man. He also learns that he wouldn't change him for the world. (MGS1-era.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Handed You a Knife

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a request from mgs-kink on dreamwidth. This was challenging but fun to write, since I'd never considered this pairing before, and it was interesting thinking of ways to make everyone not too horrendously OOC.
> 
> This was written with absolutely no knowledge of TPP.

“Well gentlemen, what have we here?”

The bored-looking guards standing in the entryway rolled their eyes, one of them sighing.

“We’re on babysitting duty.”

When he didn’t elaborate, Ocelot stepped out into the cold, listening to the clang of the steel grating give way to the crunch of snow under his boots echoing off the cave-like walls of the enclosure. He scanned the area, trying to find what the guards were supposed to be guarding, but found nothing. He was about to ask the other guard when he noticed a pair of skinny, jean-clad legs peeking out from a narrow hole in the rock.

“That’s it, girl! Come here! Sorry I’m late, but don’t worry, your usual food is right here.”

A lanky man dressed in clothes completely ill-suited to the weather scooted backwards out of the hole, standing up and brushing snow off of his sweater with one hand. The other held out a large bowl of dog food, which he set down in the snow, tempting several of the base’s wolf-dogs to leave their cave, sniffing excitedly at the meal before chowing down.

The man brushed more snow off his jeans as he turned around, addressing the guards.

“See? They would have gone hungry if I hadn’t fed them. And they’re not bad, just look at…them…”

His voice trailed off as he noticed Ocelot. His gaze fell on the revolver he was absentmindedly twirling at his side, and his eyes abruptly narrowed in anger behind his glasses. He backed away from Ocelot, stepping in front of the dogs and holding his arms out to his sides.

“Don’t shoot!”

Ocelot paused, taken aback at the man’s outburst. Frustration filled his voice as he continued.

“Don’t shoot them…damnit, she promised! She said you wouldn’t hurt them!”

Finally realizing the reason for his concern, Ocelot laughed and holstered the gun. He held his palms out in a peace offering.

“Now, now, I have no interest in using these mutts for target practice. There’s an abundance of Alaskan wildlife I could take advantage of, if I wanted to go hunting. There’s no honor in shooting pent-up dogs.”

The man was wary, the tension refusing to leave his posture as he let his arms fall to his sides.

“Okay. Good. Yeah, okay, good.”

Ocelot stepped forward. The man took a step backwards. He stumbled over a dog in the process, but quickly righted himself.

“And just who are you? One of the scientists, I assume?”

The man kept his eyes downcast, refusing to meet Ocelot’s gaze.

“Yeah. A scientist. My name’s Hal. Hal – ”

“ – Emmerich?”

The man nodded.

“That’s me.”

“So you’re the man that’s made all this possible? I, for one, am glad to have this opportunity to thank you in person. Your little robot is helping us do a great service to our nation.”

Emmerich looked like he didn’t know how to respond to that. 

“I have to ask. Why do you care so much about those mutts? They’re a dime a dozen.”

Emmerich shook his head, looking thoughtful.

“You could say the same of people. But the dogs…they’re innocent. They have no part in this. They didn’t choose to be here. And it’s not like they’re interfering with your plans or anything. It’s just…common decency. Kindness.”

He probably thought Ocelot couldn’t hear him mutter under his breath, “Something you people’ve probably never heard of.” 

Ocelot stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder. He jumped.

“That’s pretty noble of you. I’m impressed. You’re a man of principle, bizarre as that principle is. I respect that in a man.”

“Uh. Thanks? I think?”

“You’re also innocent. That’s both a blessing and a curse. I wish I could have been as wide-eyed in my youth as you are now.”

“Uhhh-huh.” 

Emmerich crossed his arms, looking deeply uninterested in an old man’s ramblings about his past.

“But let that naivety control you, and you’ll find yourself dead in a heartbeat.”

He drew his revolver at pointed it right between Emmerich’s eyes. The scientist froze, breath catching in his throat. There was steel in Ocelot’s voice.

“If I had really wanted to shoot those dogs, you would be dead right now. Choose your battles carefully.”

He smiled and put away the gun before turning to leave.

“Have a nice day, doctor. Get some sleep, when you can. Rex needs you.”

-

He found Wolf out in the cold, leaning against a tree and polishing her gun. The stark white of her jacket in the moonlight made the snow look dirty and dull in comparison.

“What do you want?” She asked as Ocelot approached.

“Been fraternizing with the dogs, lately?”

She quirked an eyebrow.

“The Rex engineer was feeding them. He said ‘she’ promised that we wouldn’t hurt them. Since we’re not exactly overburdened with women in our ranks, am I correct to assume he was referring to you?” 

Wolf chuckled, returning her attention to her rifle. 

“Ah, that. Of course I stopped those brutes from hurting them. Wolf mothers are fiercely protective of their cubs.”

She tapped the gun’s sight with a polished fingernail. Her voice was quiet, sweet.

“You mess with my children, you mess with me.”

Ocelot nodded. He’d often thought it ironic; he’d spent most of his life surrounded by men who took every opportunity available to assert their dominance with threats of violence, meaningless posturing meant to intimidate. Yet Wolf put them all to shame with nothing but the shade of her lipstick and the cut of her nails.

“Yet you left the feeding of your children to him?”

Wolf’s hands started to tremble ever so slightly. She frowned and drew a bottle of pills from her coat pocket, downing one mindlessly.

“I’m a working mother. I don’t have time for housework.”

Ocelot smiled, simultaneously amused and disturbed by the fleeting mental image of Emmerich as a housewife.

“Well, if you think he’s capable…”

“Giving food to animals is not a difficult task, Ocelot. No great skill is needed.” 

The disdain in her voice would have been cutting if Ocelot hadn’t been so used to hearing it aimed at him.

“If you say so. I’ll just leave you to your…actually, why are you out here?”

She gestured to the moon, gazing absently into the sky.

“I feel closer to my children under the light of the moon.”

“…Right. I’ll just leave you to that, then.”

Hours later, when the sun was grasping at the horizon, he decided to pay a visit to Emmerich’s lab. Though, now it was functionally his prison. 

Security around the lab was heavy, and with good reason. Until they were absolutely sure Rex was in working order, Emmerich was indispensable.

He reached into his pocket to grab his security card, but as he brought it up to the scanner he hesitated, distracted by the muffled sounds of shouting coming from the lab.

“Why not? What on Earth do you gain by not letting me have this? It’s not an unreasonable request!”

That was Emmerich.

“Orders are orders. We need you on call at all times, in case anything goes wrong.”

“Nothing will go so wrong that you can’t take two extra seconds to – ”

Emmerich cut himself off abruptly as the door hissed open and Ocelot stepped inside. He was leaning forward in his desk chair, straining so far off the edge he looked ready to fall off. His hands were clenched in tight fists at his side, and his eyes were wide and desperate. They narrowed when he noticed Ocelot.

“You! That comment about ‘getting some sleep’ – was that your idea of a sick joke?”

Ocelot once again found himself holding up his hands to placate the engineer as he walked towards him. He wondered idly if this would happen every time he saw Emmerich.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ocelot said. He turned to address the guard.

“If I could inquire as to the situation here…?”

The guard glared down at Emmerich, looking exasperated. He started to respond, but Emmerich interrupted him almost instantly, voice full of bitterness.

Ocelot was both impressed with the sheer balls the wimpy-looking man had to have to keep provoking the people who were holding him hostage, as well as disappointed with his stupidity in doing so.

“All I asked is to be able to sleep for a few hours. I’ve been awake and working for almost 30 hours. I can’t even see straight anymore.”

The guard responded, looking sour at being cut off.

“And all I’ve told him is exactly what we’ve been told. They need him available and working at all times.”

Emmerich gripped at the hem of his sweater, bunching up the fabric and squeezing it until the blood fled from his knuckles.

“There’s nothing left to work on right now! They need to run more tests before I can change anything, and I won’t be needed until those are finished.”

“Then why don’t you work on something else? Make new features, or something.”

Emmerich stood up, glaring at the guard.

“That’s not. How programming. Works!”

The guard shoved him, hard, with the butt of his gun. Emmerich crumpled into the chair, looking dazed for a moment before curling his legs up to his chest and burying his face in them. He sounded like he was about to cry when he spoke next.

“Please. Just a couple hours. I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me. I’ll be useless anyway, with my mind fried by sleep deprivation. Please.”

He had a point.

Ocelot finally stepped in, speaking calmly to the guard. He seemed worryingly trigger-happy. Coming from Ocelot, that said a lot.

“Why don’t you take a break. He’s right. He’ll be useless if his brain isn’t working. We’d just be slowing down Rex’s development.”

“But – ”

“That’s an order. Go.”

The guard reluctantly nodded and exited the lab. Ocelot turned back to Emmerich, his head still tucked tightly against his chest.

“Request granted, doctor. You’re sleeping in here, however. I won’t take the chance of letting you out of our sights.”

Emmerich looked up slowly, adjusting his glasses.

“Really?”

Ocelot nodded.

“I…thanks,” Emmerich mumbled.

He crawled off the chair, stumbling as he stood again. Ocelot took a closer look at his face, noticed the sickly pale color, the dark patches under his eyes, and his glazed-over eyes. He was the picture of exhaustion.

What was Liquid thinking, giving an order like that?

The engineer looked around the room, finally settling on a spot near the computer towers to lay down. He began to take off his sweater to use as a pillow, but thought better of it when he shivered at the chill in the air. Sighing, he curled up on his side, putting his glasses aside and lowering his head to the cold tile.

Ocelot pulled a chair out from under one of the desks and sat down. Emmerich stared, squinting without his glasses.

“What are you doing?”

“Guarding you.”

Emmerich shifted restlessly.

“Do you really have to be in here? It’s really uncomfortable trying to sleep with someone staring at me.”

Ocelot crossed his arms.

“It’s this, or I tell the other guard to come back. Which would you prefer?”

“Ugh. If I have to choose? I guess…you…”

He trailed off, the last word a barely-coherent mumble. Ocelot was puzzled for a minute, until he realized that the scientist had fallen asleep mid-sentence.

“Cute,” he muttered.

The man was kind of cute, in an off-kilter way. Ocelot had never been particularly paternal, but there was something about Hal Emmerich that made you want to protect him. Mostly from his own stupidity.

He snored quietly and fidgeted as he slept, never looking truly at rest. Ocelot thought of sharks, who could never stop moving, even in sleep. He would never compare Emmerich to a shark, but he did have a certain unorthodox courage to him. Again, even if it was mostly stupidity.

Ocelot sighed and reclined in the chair, staring at the harsh lights on the ceiling. He needed to get some sleep himself. Confident that Emmerich wouldn’t be waking up any time soon, he closed his eyes and let himself drift off.

-

Ocelot woke to the sound of heavy boots and gruff voices.

He opened his eyes lazily, stretching. Two guards stood in front of him, looking thoroughly unimpressed with his apparent habit of falling asleep on the job.

“The Metal Gear engineer is in the hangar. Liquid wants you there as soon as possible...sir.”

“Mmmm. Okay.”

Ocelot took his sweet time getting up and heading to the hangar. His back and neck were sore from sleeping in such an awkward position. Liquid could damn well wait a few minutes.

Long before he saw Liquid or Emmerich, he heard their voices, echoing in the spacious chamber where Rex resided. From the sounds of it, the engineer was teaching Liquid how to pilot the Metal Gear.

“You mean I can’t actually see what’s in front of me? That’s bloody stupid.”

“I’m sorry…but if you look at the control panel, you’ll see there’s a mechanism that lets you…”

Emmerich paused as Ocelot approached him. He was leaning against the railing and clutching a set of diagrams in his hands. Three guards flanked him, looking like they’d rather be anywhere else.

Grinning, Ocelot held out his palms. Emmerich, strangely, looked slightly sickened at the sight of him. He stared for a moment and looked like he was about to speak, but instead, Liquid spoke up from Rex’s cockpit.

“That lets me _what?_ ”

Emmerich shook his head and continued his explanation, keeping his eyes focused on his diagrams.

Since Liquid clearly didn’t actually need him for the time being, Ocelot reclined against the railing, listening to Emmerich’s muddy voice list off the mechanics of piloting a walking vehicle of death. Even though his situation was less than ideal, he was clearly passionate about getting to tell someone how his machine worked. He spoke about it with such pride, like it was his child.

Occasionally, he would get caught up in explaining the finer technical aspects of a bit of hardware, and Liquid would firmly remind him that he couldn’t care less. Ocelot wished he wouldn’t. It was amusing, listening to someone be so innocently eager about such a deadly weapon. When Liquid interrupted him, Emmerich would falter, the energy gone from his voice for a few minutes.

A couple hours later, Liquid seemed satisfied. The guards escorted Emmerich back to the lab. He desperately avoided the eye contact Ocelot tried to make as he passed by.

Liquid crawled out of the cockpit, swinging over the railing and landing on the catwalk with a clang.

“Ocelot? I’d like to have a word with you.”

Liquid crossed his arms and pursed his lips as Ocelot approached. Whatever this was about, it clearly wasn’t good.

“Yes, sir?” 

“The soldiers tell me that when they came to retrieve the Rex engineer, not only was he sleeping, but the guard I had stationed with him was gone. The only guard in the room was you. Sleeping.”

“Ah, yes, that was…”

Liquid slammed his hand down on the railing.

“That was idiotic, that’s what it was! For such an old man, that’s one hell of a rookie mistake. He could have gotten up and stolen your weapon at any moment. You’re lucky you’re still alive. Moreover, you’re lucky he’s still with us, otherwise I would personally make sure you _weren’t_ alive.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think Emmerich could hurt a fly.”

“You think so? Well I think you’re a fool. No more of this improvisation, Ocelot. This mission requires us to tread carefully. I won’t have you stomping all over and ruining everything.”

Ocelot nodded, biting back a venomous response.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Liquid waved him away.

-

Ocelot had never been much good at following orders from Liquid.

He went straight to Emmerich’s lab and dismissed the guard that was stationed inside. Luckily for him, it was a fresh one, and Ocelot easily soothed his worries by telling him that Liquid had personally ordered him to get information out of the hostage.

Emmerich made a choking noise when he heard that.

The moment the guard was out of the room, Ocelot sat himself on Emmerich’s desk. Emmerich started to push his chair back, but Ocelot grabbed him by the arms. He screamed.

“Calm down, calm down! I was kidding. I’m not going to torture you. Unless you give me a very good reason to.” 

Emmerich looked wholly unconvinced.

“Last night…or, yesterday…wasn’t reason enough?”

Ocelot cocked his head.

“What do you mean?”

Emmerich shivered under his grip. That sickly look returned to his face.

“I’m sorry. I was so tired…I didn’t know what I was doing. I was so rude. I can’t believe you didn’t just…shoot me or something. Forgive me. I’m so sorry.”

Ocelot clenched his mouth shut for the sudden fear that it might literally drop open.

“You. Are apologizing. To us.”

Emmerich nodded, refusing to meet his eyes. His voice was quiet, fearful.

“Please, don’t hurt me.”

He flinched at a sudden burst of noise from Ocelot. Ocelot, meanwhile, was laughing his head off. When the laughter eased up, he looked back at Emmerich, but the engineer’s baffled expression only started up another laughing fit.

“Doctor, doctor…what on Earth am I going to do with you?”

“Um.”

Ocelot reclined on the desk, crossing his legs.

“I haven’t laughed like that in ages. Thank you for that.”

“Umm.”

Ocelot tapped at a piece of paper on the desk, covered margin-to-margin in messy handwriting.

“You seemed so excited about how Rex worked. I imagine creating it must have been an adventure for you.”

Poor Emmerich seemed completely lost. It took him a minute to process the change in the direction of the conversation. He shifted awkwardly as he answered.

“Well, I mean, not really. It’s just my job. I mean – yeah.”

Ocelot was clearly not satisfied with that answer. He waved at Emmerich to continue.

“Um. I’ve always liked robots, I thought they were really cool…and I, y’know, wanted to make one of my own.”

He relayed, with many pauses and filler words, a clipped explanation of how he came to work on Rex. When he got to “And then you guys kinda stormed the place and took everyone hostage,” he trailed off and gestured that Ocelot knew the rest.

Ocelot nodded thoughtfully.

“Thank you. I was curious. Now, I assume there were some changes that Liquid wanted you to make?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, he wanted some of the control scheme modified.”

He reached for a paper that Ocelot was half sitting on. Ocelot moved to allow him to take it. 

“I can’t change much of the hardware at this stage, but a simple control function remap shouldn’t be too hard.”

He turned on the monitor in front of him and flexed his fingers. Ocelot heard a sharp cracking noise as he stretched his wrists.

Ocelot shifted, making himself comfortable on the desk once again as Emmerich began to work.

“Don’t let me distract you.”

Emmerich frowned.

“Why do you want to stay here?”

Ocelot shrugged.

“I want to see what the inner workings of a history-changing weapon look like.”

As it turned out, the answer was ‘very boring.’ Ocelot had absolutely no idea what he was looking at, and asking for clarification from Emmerich produced answers that only confused him further.

After an hour or so, Emmerich closed a window on the screen and pushed his chair back from the desk. He looked up at Ocelot.

“What is it with the gun?”

Ocelot glanced down at his revolver. He hadn’t noticed himself taking it out and fiddling with it – he rarely did, any more. At this point in his life, having a gun in his hand was like a reflex, as natural and unconscious as tapping one’s foot. 

He raised the gun, the polished metal catching the glare of the fluorescent lamps and gleaming in the light.

“It’s a beauty, isn’t it? The Colt Single-Action Army, the greatest handgun known to man.”

Emmerich shook his head.

“I mean, why are you always holding it? You know I’m no threat to you.”

Ocelot considered how to explain it. Emmerich looked like he had never held a weapon in his life. Hell, he probably couldn’t form a proper fist if he tried to punch someone. He wouldn’t understand the attachment that formed with a gun when it was at your side day and night, your first line of defense and offense.

He waved at the colorful posters on the wall above Emmerich’s workstation. He didn’t recognize any of them.

“Why do you have those there?”

“The posters? Because I like the series.”

“Surely liking a movie doesn’t require you to look at a poster of it.”

Emmerich stared at the posters, lost in thought.

“Well, no, but…I guess it’s just…I don’t know. I can’t really explain it.” 

“Would you say you get some sort of comfort from keeping a memento of something you like close at hand?”

Emmerich nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good way to put it.”

“I like my gun. I take comfort in having it in my grasp.”

He flipped the revolver around, gripping it by the barrel, and held it out to the engineer. Emmerich blinked. He didn’t make any move to take it.

“Go on. Hold it.”

Emmerich looked at it like it was a snake poised to bite him. His expression turned to disbelief as he looked back up at Ocelot.

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not. Take it.”

“I think somebody should tell Liquid Snake he needs to do psychological evaluations on his terrorists. You’re insane. You’re alone in a room with a hostage who has every reason to want to escape from you, and you give him your weapon?”

Ocelot grabbed Emmerich’s hand. He flinched, but Ocelot just wrapped it around the handle of the revolver. He took his other hand and laid it against the one around the handle, trying to give him some sort of steady grip.

“If I thought you had it in you to kill me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

He let go of the doctor’s hands, and Emmerich instinctively held the gun as far away from his body as possible. Still, he looked mildly offended.

“I don’t have it in me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He awkwardly aimed the gun in Ocelot’s direction. The barrel was shaking.

“I’m not so weak that I can’t shoot a gun.”

Ocelot rolled his eyes.

“First off, you’re not shooting anything with the safety on.”

Emmerich frowned and started examining the gun.

“Secondly, I don’t mean you’re too weak. I mean you’re too good.”

That made him pause. He stared at Ocelot in plain confusion. Ocelot took his hands in his again, and moved them until the Emmerich was pointing the revolver straight at his heart.

“I can’t think of a man on this Earth who, in your situation, wouldn't shoot me right now. Go on, doctor, prove me right.”

Neither of them moved.

Ocelot felt the tremor of the man’s hands echoing through his own. He squeezed them tighter.

“Come now. Prove you’re not weak.”

He reached over and flipped off the safety. Emmerich’s breath caught in the back of his throat. He swallowed audibly.

The moment seemed to stretch for an eternity. Even though Ocelot was the one with a gun aimed at his heart, it was Emmerich’s elevated heartbeat that gradually reached his ears, mixing with the ambient drones of the computers to form a biomechanical hum. Ocelot could feel the hands beneath his grow hot, the engineer’s body flushing with heat as he grew agitated, battling with his instincts.

Then he dropped his eyes to the floor. His voice was a whisper.

“I can’t.”

Ocelot just nodded, freeing the other’s hands and reclaiming his gun. Emmerich let his hands fall limply into his lap. He looked ashamed at himself.

“See, you’re different. It should be illegal to be as innocent as you are. How you’ve gone your whole life without the world beating some sense into you, I have no idea.”

He was startled at a small noise Emmerich bit back the moment it was out. He was crying. Ocelot moved closer and leaned down, gripping the man’s shoulders tightly.

“And that’s exactly why I don’t want to see you change.”

Emmerich looked up, about to say something, but his words disappeared when Ocelot pressed their lips together.

Ocelot was expecting surprise. He was ready for confusion. He was prepared to deal with shock.

He wasn’t expecting Emmerich to just…shut down. As if Ocelot had flipped a switch, everything stopped. His body went rigid. His breath halted. The heat fled his skin, and his chapped lips turned cold under Ocelot’s.

Ocelot remained where he was, waiting for some kind of reaction, but Emmerich was completely unresponsive. The only indication that he was still alive was the shallow, stilted breath he took after a long moment of silence.

Ocelot took the lack of protest as a cue to continue. He moved his mouth gently against the other man’s, trying to drive away the chill with the warmth of his own lips. He was so focused on mentally willing Emmerich to just do something that he barely noticed it when he did mutter something.

“What was that?”

He mumbled again, so quietly that even in the silence, Ocelot couldn’t understand him.

“I can’t hear you. Speak up.”

Emmerich raised a hand and pressed it against Ocelot’s chest. Ocelot felt a rush of hope, but then Emmerich tried to push him away.

“…I said, stop.”

Ocelot let go of him and pulled back slowly. Emmerich hunched in on himself, crossing his arms. Ocelot was hit with a twinge of guilt. He stood and began to leave.

“…My apologies. I’ll just be going then. Have a nice night, doctor.”

“Wait.”

Ocelot did. Emmerich’s voice was cold, but there was something strange in it Ocelot couldn’t put his finger on when he spoke up again.

“Why?”

Ocelot turned around.

“There’s a lot of things you could be asking me about. You’ll have to be more specific.”

The engineer glared at him over the rims of his glasses.

“You know what. Why did you just do that? Is that your way of trying to mess with my mind, since you probably need me in one piece until Rex is finished? Some kind of joke? It’s not funny.”

Ocelot sighed and dropped to one knee in front of Emmerich’s chair. He took a deep breath.

“I’ve spent my entire life both backstabbing and waiting to be backstabbed by everyone around me. I handed you a knife and showed you where to put it, and you _gave it back to me_. You’re foolish. You’re an idiot. You’re goddamn beautiful.”

He ran a hand through his graying hair, trying to find the words he needed. They were always there for him before, yet they disappeared at a time as insignificant as this. After so many years of lying, it felt unnatural to tell the truth. 

“You deserve far better than a scumbag like me. But what can I say – I’m a selfish old man. I’d be honored if you would indulge me.”

He waited silently for a minute, before looking up to meet Emmerich’s gaze. The anger in his eyes had faded away, replaced with a wide-eyed incredulity. 

“…Really?”

In answer, Ocelot kissed him again.

This time, Emmerich responded. Slowly, he stood up and moved closer. He opened his mouth and pressed back, flicking his tongue hesitantly across their lips. 

“I guess I’d be even more of a fool to say no to you.”

Ocelot frowned.

“Doctor, I hope you realize that I’m not going to force you into this. If you don’t want to, just say so, and I’ll never touch you again. Unless the whole torture situation comes up, of course, but let’s just factor that out of the equation for now.”

Emmerich shook his head.

“No, I’m…interested, if you’re, um, suggesting what I think you are. I’m pretty sure. It’s nice to know there’s someone in this place that doesn’t want to kill me, right? And hey, it’s as good way as any to pass the time…”

He hovered his arms awkwardly at his sides for a moment before mirroring Ocelot’s grip on his own hips. He relaxed into the other’s grip, spurred by the sudden pressure of Ocelot’s thumbs digging softly into the hollows of his hips. 

“Besides,” he muttered in between kisses, “What you said about me. No one’s ever called me that before.”

Ocelot couldn’t help quipping, “What, an idiot?”

“Shut up. You know what I mean.”

A few tears had slipped loose onto Emmerich’s cheeks when he was crying, and Ocelot pulled back to wipe them away. He removed the engineer’s glasses and set them on the desk. Emmerich blinked.

“You know I can’t see anything now, right?”

Ocelot pressed their bodies closer, relishing in an intimacy he rarely experienced.

“Good. You won’t have to look at my wrinkly old face.”

Emmerich chuckled.

“You’re not that old.”

Ocelot pulled back again and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe you are that old.”

“How dare you,” he whispered in mock offense. He stepped around the engineer and sat down in his desk chair. Emmerich put a hand on his hip, pouting.

“Hey, that’s my chair.”

Ocelot grinned and grabbed his hands, guiding him to sit in his lap.

“Then come sit on it.”

His face turned pink as he straddled Ocelot’s hips. Ocelot startled him by pulling him into a tight hug.

“You’re too good for me,” he muttered, rubbing the back of Emmerich’s neck. Emmerich leaned into the touch, a groan escaping him as Ocelot pressed his fingers against the sore muscles. Encouraged, Ocelot moved his hands to his shoulders and back, rough fingers digging into the tense knots of muscle. Sounding embarrassed, Emmerich started rambling, his face still buried in Ocelot’s neck.

“Ah…thanks. That, uh, that feels really good. When you’re sitting at a computer, you just, y’know, forget to move for long periods of time. I always tell myself I’m going to stretch, but I always forget. And the longer you go without doing it the more tense you get, and you just…yeah.”

He started playing with Ocelot’s hair, dragging his fingers through the long strands. Ocelot shivered lightly at the feeling of nails raking down his neck. Emmerich clearly noticed, and Ocelot could feel him grinning against his neck as he did it again.

“Oh, now that’s just unfair.”

He started to remove Emmerich’s sweater. Emmerich suddenly flinched and tensed up again, and Ocelot pulled his hands back.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Emmerich glued his eyes to the floor.

“No. Sorry, I’m just cold.” He moved to start kissing Ocelot again, but Ocelot wouldn’t be so easily deterred.

“That’s a lie.”

Emmerich sighed, wrapping his arms around himself, suddenly looking much younger.

“I just…I’m not quite used to this. I’m not, uh, I’m not a virgin or anything, but I don’t exactly, well, get around. Especially not with…”

He made a waving gesture at Ocelot, who smirked.

“Russians? Terrorists? Senior citizens?”

Emmerich rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’m just being stupid. Here, let me…”

He tugged off the sweater and set it aside on the desk. Ocelot trailed his fingers along his arms, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to Emmerich’s neck.

“You really are beautiful, Hal.”

Emmerich looked taken aback at the use of his given name.

“Is it alright if I call you Hal?”

“…Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.”

They sat like that for a few minutes, moving slowly and savoring every moment, as if they had all the time in the world. But it was becoming very difficult to ignore the fact that they were both getting hard. Especially with the way Hal kept squirming in his lap. Ocelot reluctantly pulled himself up from dragging his tongue across the engineer’s collarbone. With one hand still rubbing against the small of his back, he started undoing the button of Hal’s pants. He expected hesitation, but Hal seemed unfazed. In fact, he started returning the favor with an enthusiasm that came as a pleasant surprise.

“Not so innocent now, are we?”

Ocelot jumped when Hal gripped his cock. A mischievous grin crept across the engineer’s face.

“Don’t treat me like I’m some little kid.”

Ocelot returned the smile and raised his palms in surrender.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

-

Hal belonged in a museum.

He was leaning back against a desk, gripping the edge with unsteady fingers. His hair was mussed, his eyes were glazed over with lust, his cheeks crimson. Ocelot was almost tempted to stop sucking the man’s cock just so he could get a better look at him, but then he would stop making those breathy little moans and whimpers. Hal made the most delicious noises.

He didn’t say anything when he came, just closed his eyes, threw his head back and moaned deeply. Though Ocelot had never understood the appeal of swallowing, he didn’t want to ruin the moment. He wiped his lips and sat back on his heels, delighting at the sight of Hal panting as he recovered. 

He started stroking his own cock, which he’d ignored throughout most of their encounter. He assumed Hal wouldn’t be up for a second round, and more importantly, he realized that his body was no longer young. He couldn’t expect anyone, let alone Hal, to be interested in pleasuring him.

He’d made a lot of incorrect assumptions about Hal.

The engineer knelt down in front of him and licked his lips.

“I should probably return that favor. It's only fair, right?” 

-

“Hal.”

“Huh?”

Ocelot was on his way out the door. Surfaces had been cleaned, clothing had been fixed, composure had been gathered. Hal was back at his desk, doing something that Ocelot would need to take night classes to even begin to understand.

“Promise me something.”

“Sure. What is it?”

The lack of wariness in Hal’s response made Ocelot want to go back over and hug him all over again. He was so damn _trusting_. That would most definitely get him killed one day, but Ocelot prayed that he had time to live a long and fulfilling life before that.

“Don’t let the world change you. It’ll try and make you cold and hard, but trust me, the world needs more people like you.”

He walked out, the lab’s door closing on Hal’s response.

“I’ll try my best.”


End file.
